Daddy Dearest
by Maruaderette
Summary: Draco and Ginny have been lying to their daughter. When Alison discovers the truth she takes it hard. ON HIATUS.
1. A Life In Snapshots

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, but I would kill for a few of those Weasley boys. A girl can dream, right?**

**Snapshot:** A baby girl with flaming red hair sits in her christening gown, clutching a stuffed dragon with chubby arms. Her name is Alison and her parents are Draco and Ginny Malfoy. Mummy had wanted this to be on their Christmas card. She blinks at the same time her daddy takes the picture, covering almond shaped silver eyes. Daddy sighs as he picks her up, "Not in the mood for a photo, Ali? Well let's go tell that to Mummy."

The baby replies with in a language that is her own.

The young father nods his head as if he understands, "Yes, I do suppose she'll be quite disappointed."

**Snapshot: **It's the semi-annual Weasley family picnic. Daddy wouldn't have come if he hadn't been promised a decent game of Quidditch. He was searching for the snitch, while the twins fiercely guarded him from bludgers. Suddenly he spotted a flash of gold where Ginny and Molly were playing with the younger children. He dived and Hermione saw it as an opportunity to take a picture.

Minutes later everyone was screaming, it took Draco a moment to realize it was not because of his fantastic catch, but the fact his two year old daughter, Alison, had jumped with wobbly legs onto the back of his broom.

When he lands he assures his hysterical wife and mother-in-law that he didn't mean to and it will never happen again. They seem more upset than Alison, who is babbling happily to her cousin, Becca. With a sense of satisfaction, Draco knows his little girl was born to fly.

**Snapshot:** Ginny was boiling on the sofa as Draco tried to persuaded their stubborn four year old to hold her brother. Alison was putting up a rather good fight, "I don't like him! He never plays with me!"

Draco kneeled in front of her, "I've told you a million times, love, Bryan is too little to play with you. Just hold him for the picture."

The little girl crossed her arms over her chest, "Bryan doesn't do anything. He just gets carried and fed and played with by everyone. No one plays with me anymore."

"If you sit pretty with Bryan for the photo, I'll have Auntie Hermione brings the twins over this afternoon," Draco bargained, "And you can see if Becca wants to come over."

Alison pouted, "Becca is on holiday and the twins are ill. Mummy fire called this morning."

Draco sent his wife a look. Ginny shrugged weakly. Rolling his eyes, Draco turned back to his daughter, "Listen young lady, you will sit on next to your mother and me and you will hold your brother. No arguments."

"It's not fair! You let Bryan get away with everything!" Silver eyes welled up with tears; "You never make him take icky potions without saying why."

Draco and Ginny were silent. The picture was taken, Bryan in his mother's arms.

Snapshot: Two six-year-old girls grin at the camera; they are best friends and cousins. Becca is taller and a nearly a perfect clone of her mother, Angelina, with dark skin and even darker eyes. Alison skin and eyes look like porcelain and glass in comparison. The only thing the two have in common is their hair. It is the trademark Weasley flame red. But even that is a difference between them, Alison's comes from her mother, Ginny while Becca gets it from her father, Fred.

Alison has a younger brother, while Becca is an only child. Becca despises her full name Alison adores hers. Alison has already ridden a racing broom, though she doesn't actually remember the sensation. Becca has already visited Hogwarts and she remembers the whole trip.

Alison helps her friend to stick with her promises; in return she is taught how to be more outgoing. They balance each other out. Yin and yang. Fire and water. Black and white.

They are cross-your-heart-hope-to-die, good-times-and-bad-times, borrow-anything, tell-you-anything, trust-you-with-you-deepest-darkest-secrets, always-and-forever-friends.

**Snapshot: **Years have passed and Alison, now nine, tearfully hugs her beloved cousins, Elliot and Emma, before they board the Hogwarts Express for the first time. After promises of coming home for Christmas break and a letter from each of them every week, Alison lets them go.

She begins to chase after the train, crying and waving at the same time. As they leave platform 9¾, Ginny is reminded of herself the day Ron left. Harry was with him. But today Harry wasn't here to see Ron and Hermione's children off. Harry will never be able to see anyone leave for Hogwarts, ever. A few tears fall and Alison hugs her mother, "Don't worry. I miss the twins as well, Mum."

Ginny nods and wipes the remaining tears from her eyes. Though she knows the stories, Alison doesn't know who Harry Potter really was. Alison goes to lunch with Auntie Hermione and her mother that afternoon.

The two women exchange sad looks, remembering Septembers passed. The red haired girl mistakes the nostalgia for missing the twins.

**Snapshot:** Two years later and Alison is finally joining the twins at Hogwarts. Earlier that day she had confessed to Dad that she was horribly nervous about getting sorted. He had assured her that everyone was. "Even you?"

Chuckling the blonde man answered, "Even me. I didn't know what I would do if I didn't get into Slytherin, that's the only house, my father would allow. But you can go into any house and I'll still be proud."

Despite his words, Alison feels her stomach knot as her name is called. Sitting on the stool, Professor Lupin slips the patched hat on her head. It's so big it grazes her chin.

'Interesting. Very interesting. I haven't had one like you in quite a few years. But you'll learn of that later. You've got quite a fiery temper, like your mother. But you are extremely forgiving, as was your father. Clever and loyal to your family, as big as they are. Yes, there is only one place for you and it's GRYFFINDOR!'

Walking to her new table, Alison smiled as her once gray tie turned scarlet and gold.

**Snapshot:** A snake is wrapped around Alison's arm. She got it as a birthday gift from Uncle Charlie. He said it was native to Romania and was supposed to have magical properties. Nana had nearly fainted when she first saw it. Becca had screamed quite loudly.

When the snake hissed angrily at the noise, no one expected the now fifteen-year-old to hiss back. But she did. Mum and Dad gave each other a worried glance. Grandma Molly looks disapprovingly at Uncle Charlie, who returns with an apologetic look.

Alison notices none of this, because she is translating everything the snake, whose name is apparently Nassau, to the other children. They are all fascinated at this newfound ability. They don't understand that it's just another thing that may cause problems in the future.

At the end of the party, they all have to swear never to let Alison's 'talent' leave the family. Mum looks drained that evening and talks late into the night with Dad. There is no yelling, so the two Malfoy children sleep soundly, having no idea of the problems that are beginning to arise.

**Snapshot:** During the Christmas break, Grandma Molly knitted all of her grandchildren jumpers with their initials and house color on them. Inside was a tag that read _Stitched with Love by Grandma_.

Auntie Hermione convinced them all to wear them for a picture. No one dared to argue; lately her mood swings were unpredictable and quite frightening. It was a sea of red and gold, with occasional touches of blue and yellow. Bryan was the only one dressed in green. Alison often worries that her brown-eyed brother feels alone.

Becca throws a gold clad arm around her shoulder, "Why so blue? You're a Gryffindor!"

She laughs at her own joke and Alison feels a smile tug at her lips. Becca put on a serious face, "So who upset you and how badly should I hurt them? My dad gave me a couple Ton Tongue Toffees earlier, I wouldn't mind using them."

Alison shakes her head and replies, "It's Bryan. Do you reckon he gets picked on in Slytherin, with no one else there with him?"

"Nah. He's tough stuff, for a first year that is. 'Sides, I've trained him well," Suddenly her eyes widen and she pulls on Alison's arm, "Hurry! Grandma Molly just set out more Christmas pudding, we've got to get to it before Auntie Hermione!"

"It's not her fault she's five months pregnant," Alison replies but begins to run as well.

**Snapshot:** One year later, they are at platform 9¾. Mum is close to bawling as she traps Alison and Bryan in bone-cracking ribs. When she finally let's go, Bryan pants, "Takes for remembering my love of air, Mum."

Dad laughs and gives them both tight hugs and soft kisses on the forehead. He reminds Alison to take her potion twice a day and wishes Bryan good luck.

The boy plans to try out for the place of Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team. When he first mentioned it, Becca sighed and told Alison, "We'll be able to hit things at him and not get in trouble. It's a dream come true."

The two girls, who are the Gryffindor Beaters, helped Bryan prepare for tryouts. Finally, towards the end of August, they sincerely told him that they had taught him all they knew.

"Smile you lot!" Auntie Angelina called as she the camera flashed. The picture is a wizarding one and shows three heads snapping up to get into the frame.

The train whistle blows and Alison and Becca rushed aboard. Waving franticly from a window, they say their farewells. When the platform disappears into the distance, they start their hunt of a vacant compartment.

Alison doesn't realize that she will learn secrets that will test her trust, loyalty, and love for her family. It is here our story begins.

**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Want more? Drop me a review with your critism, thoughts, and encouragement. Ta until the next chapter.**

**M.**


	2. The Navy Vial

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot and various children of Rowling' s characters. So technically, I own people whose family belongs to a very rich British woman.**

The battle to find an empty compartment proved harder than the two girls thought it would. Part of that was because Becca insisted to stop and talk to every Weasley aboard the train. Finally, they found a place to sit near the back of the train. The girls talked about the new school year for a bit, then Becca left to use the bathroom. After making sure the door was securely closed, Alison opened the clasp of the basket she had carried into the compartment and stuck her hand into it. A tan snake wrapped around her wrist and hissed at the redhead tenderly, _"How are you Mooneyes?"_

Smiling fondly at the pet name, Alison responded, _"Good Nassau. I'm relieved that I passed my Defense O.W.L., you know I rubbish at stuff like that."_

"_Nonsense, you could have passed it with your eyes shut. Will you take me with you during your Flying?" _Nassau asked.

"_I don't know if I should, you almost fell at the last match. It's not safe." _Alison answered as Nassau slid up her sleeve, trying to get comfortable.

_"Then why are you doing it, Mooneyes? And Redtop as well? If it is dangerous for an elder like me, the surely young ones like you should remaining your nests?"_ Chided the snake as she settled around Alison's neck.

Chuckling slightly at the way Nassau referred to Becca, Alison said_, "We have been trained so me will not fall and we have clubs and protective gear. Headmistress McGonagall would stop us if we began to fall anyway."_

"Do you realize how disturbing it is to wake in on a Parseltongue conversation?" Asked a voice from the doorway.

Alison looked up quickly and saw Becca, "Oh it's just you."

The dark-skinned girl rolled her eyes, "You sure know how to make a person feel loved. Now stop talking to it. It's really creepy."

Nassau pouted, _"Tell that inconsiderate youth that I can understand what she says and I don't enjoy being called 'it'. I have feelings as well!"_

Alison translated and Becca quickly apologized, it didn't take a Ravenclaw to know that having an annoyed snake living in the next bed over will most likely end in pain. Nassau nodded, then returned to her basket, asking to be woken when they arrived. After talking for a bit, the two girls decided to play a game of chess. Just as Becca won, the plump witch opened the door asking if they wanted anything. Becca and Alison spilt the cost of three-dozen chocolate frogs and licorice wands.

Whilst chewing enthusiastically on a frog's head Alison glanced at her watch, "Merlin's left foot! It's nearly noon!"

"So?" Replied her friend, spraying bits of licorice everywhere.

Alison was rummaging around her knapsack, unaware that she had half chewed food sticking to her hair. Finally, she reappeared holding a bottle containing a navy liquid. She uncorked it and the fragrance of vanilla and cabbage filled the air. Making a face, Alison drank it all in one large gulp, and then gagged. She replaced the cap and returned the empty vial to her bag.

"Disgusting smell, I don't know how you stand it. Can I open the window?" Becca asked.

Alison nodded and took a swig of pumpkin juice, trying to erase the foul taste from her mouth. After a moment, a sharp breeze filled the small space. Becca turned to her friend, "Why in the name of hippogriffs do you drink that? It's positively fetid."

Alison sighed, "Dunno, my parents says it's allergies, but it sounds like a load of waffle to me," The gray-eyed girl stretched leisurely across the seat, "I've been taking it as long as I remember, I've told you this oodles of times."

"But," persisted Becca, "You've never had an allergy attack in your life-"

"Which is the usual result of an anti-allergy potion." Alison interrupted.

They bickered on for few moments, using the same arguments as always, the strange blue liquid was common start of small rows between the two. The two girls were quickly rolling on the floor play fighting and shouting. "I thought I heard your docile tones," A calm voice said from the doorway,"And you thought it was a dying elephant, Jonas."

Looking up from where they were wrestling on the floor, Becca and Alison were graced with the image of Bryan and his fellow Slytherin, Jonas Zabini. "Sneaking into our compartment with out us knowing and waiting until we did something embarrassing to let your presence know," Alison stood up and walked until there was only a few inches in-between herself and her brother, then enclosed him in a tight hug, "I've never been so proud of my life. Now that you know that, get out."

The Zabini boy laughed, "I feel the love in here."

"Shut up, Jonas," Bryan said, "I just came to make sure you took your afternoon dose. I don't want you to hurt yourself before the year even starts."

"Don't worry," Alison replies, "I'm fine, now shoo or I'll have Nassau at your heels."

Rolling his eyes, Bryan leaves, Jonas in his wake asking who Nassau is. Shaking her head, Becca shut the door and locked it as Alison stared out the window. She looks relaxed and Becca doesn't have the heart to awake her from whatever daydream she may be in. She wonders, idly, what her best friend is thinking and wishes she were trained in Occulmancy.

Alison is wondering what it is like to live as a Muggle, with no idea magic exists, and she imagines it must be terrible boring. Auntie Hermione ensures that she found ways to keep herself entertained, but it doesn't count, because she is a witch. Muggle-born, yes, but still a witch. The sixteen-year-old's mind wanders, slowly going from her memories of a tea party she had with her parents when she was younger to the first time she rode the Hogwarts Express. She wonders if Bryan does make the Slytherin Quidditch team, if she will be able to hit a Bludger in his direction. She can't seem to decideon an answer. Finally her thoughts rest on the landscape in front of her, it is beautiful.

The sun is being to set, making the sky a canvas of reds, purples, and pinks, going on until it hits the Earth. Th land was a flat stretch of green with the occasional house to prove that civilization existed. It was all rather charming, people still living on the countryside, away from the noise and rush of big cities and towns. This life and to be simpler, yet complicated at the same time. While they ate food they raised with their own hands, a bad crop or harsh winter could mean being hungry for a while.

Alison had never truly been hungry in her whole life. She has experienced the feeling of an empty stomach after a game of Quidditch or during the lesson right before lunch, but she has never felt starved of anything. Food can easily be prepared, by either a house elf or her mother. Love is not sparse in her family, and she has Becca to lean upon when times get rough. Attention is given to her, but in a fair amount, because no one can be in the spotlight forever, and it is the brief moments that satisfies her until her are time comes again. Knowledge never seems in short stock, which is only because she does not yearn to know, yet.

She tears here eyes away from the window and turns to her friend, who has long since fallen asleep sitting up. Shaking her arm gently, Alison says "Get up now, we need to change into our robes."

Becca acknowledges her with a grunt and stands up to get to her trunk, Alison follows suit. Soon, they are wearing the trademark Hogwarts uniform for girls, gray skirts with matching sweaters over white button up blouses. Scarlet and gold ties match the crests on their black robes. Trainers are traded for sensible loafers and socks for stockings.

Slowly, the train slows to a halt. After checking that Nassau is securely hidden inside her sleeve, Alison exists the train with her cousin. The quickly find Bryan and Jonas and insist on sharing a carriage before they are separated for dinner in the Great Hall. Alison stomps and shouts for every new Gryffindor and claps politely for all the others, she listens attentively to the Headmistress' start of term announcements. When dinner finally appears on the golden plates, Alison almost forgets about the second dose for the day.

Stomach growling, she pulls out another navy vial out of her pocket. The thought of the foul aftertaste dims her appetite, but not by much. Just as she is about to put the vial to her lips, she can feel eyes on her. She looks up; Violet Smith is staring at her, thin lips in a taut grimace. In Alison's opinion, Violet is not the most pleasant girl in the world. She is short, blonde, and quite snobby. "What in the name of Merlin are you drinking?" She asks, pinching her short nose over dramatically.

"I would assume after attending a magical academy for seven years, you would be able to identify a potion," Alison replies coolly.

"What are you keeping from us, Malfoy?" As Violet says Alison's surname, her eyes narrow.

"I have no secrets."

"Yes you do, everyone does. Is it a Wit-Sharpening Potion, is that how you pass your classes? Or perhaps something that improves your flying skills? It would explain why you got picked over me for Beater. The Malfoy family has been known to be riddled with cheats."

"Shut your mouth," Becca has overheard what was said, and she is now clutching her goblet so tightly her knuckle has gone white, "She was picked because she was better than you, it was nearly four years ago, get over it."

Violet looked at the two younger Gryffindors disdainfully, "Prove it. Don't take that stupid potion and prove that your not a lying cheat, or our you scared?"

Looking her coldly in the eyes Alison shoves the vial into the blonde's hands, "You wish."

Violet looks shocked, but pockets the potion. Alison assures Becca she will be fine without it and only after promising to go the Hospital Wing if she feels ill, begins to eat. They are lead up to the common room by the prefecta and told the password. (Phoenix Ashes)

After talking excitedly with her dorm mates for an hour, Alison decides it's time for bed. As she slips into a faded pair of pajamas, she doesn't fell any different than on nights in which she had taken her nightly dose of potion.This only makes her wonder more, how that strange blue liquid affects her life.

A/N: What does the potion do? I know, but do you?

The Allknowing Tonks: You're close with polyjuice, but not quite. :hands out cookie:

jimmy- loves-hermione: You clever devil! I do hope it wasn't too easy to figure it out. :hands out cookie:

rasberitwist: Thanks; it took me ages to figure out a original way to explain Alison's life. :hands out cookie:

Do you want a cookie? Then review and maybe you'll be mentioned in the next chapter! Until then, my readers.

M.


	3. Effect Of A Challenge

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but Christmas is coming up soon. :hint hint:**

Once, when Alison was six, her father woke her up so they could have their tea at sunrise. Soon, it became a type of morning ritual and when Alison is at Hogwarts, she wakes up early and goes to the Great Hall for a hot cup of Earl Grey.

Without an alarm, Alison rose at four in the morning, took a shower and brushed her hair and teeth. She didn't bother to turn on any of the lights, they would only wake up the other girls. After throwing on her robes in a haphazard fashion, the redhead walked straight to the Great Hall.

The ceiling was only just starting to turn pink when Alison entered. As she sat down, a house elf appeared, carrying a tea tray. "Good morning young mistress, Tawni is bringing your tea, just how young mistress is liking it."

"Thank you Tawni, I hope I'm not being a bother," Alison replied as she took the tray.

Tawni began to shake her head, "No no no! Young mistress is a bother never! She is kind to Tawni, always says 'please' and 'thank you'. Tawni is happy she can bring young mistress her morning tea."

"More of the students should be kinder to the house elves," The redhead insisted, " They deserve equal rights."

Over the summer, Auntie Hermione had convinced her to join The House Elf Liberation Front, a group of witches and wizards who protested for equality between wizard and elf kind. So far, she hadn't actually been able to protest, because she was still underage.

"But young mistress, Tawni is happy being not equal. It is Tawni's duty to obey all the young masters and mistresses at Hoggy-warts. Even if they is not polite like young mistress." The house elf replied in a hesitant voice.

"Would you mind care for a cup of tea, Tawni?" Alison asked, sighing in defeat.

"Oh no! Tawni doesn't need young mistress' tea! Only bad elves take their mistress' tea. Tawni is a good elf, right?" The elf looked at the young witch with big brown eyes.

Alison smiled at the elf, "You're one of the greatest, Tawni. You can leave if you want now."

Tawni nodded and disappeared with a crack. Alison took a careful sip of the still hot tea and tilted her head towards the ceiling. The stars had long since faded and the sky was slowly turning blue. She kept staring at it until she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Turning, she saw her head of house and Defense teacher, Professor Lupin. As he sat down, Alison smiled, he was always a bit too thin, but his lessons were fun. When they were studying jinxes and their counters, he had them break into partners and had dueling contests. Even though Alison had been out by the first round, she had fun.

"Good morning Alison, how was your break?"

That was another thing you had to like about the man, he always called students by their first name and was always polite, making it hard for many of the students to believe he was a werewolf.

"It was nice, mostly I visited my relatives. What did you do?" Alison handed the professor a cup of tea, which he accepted with a nod of thanks.

He sipped it, "The same as you. Visited family. My niece had a baby boy in the January last year. His name is Allen."

"I love children, my Auntie Hermione had a little boy this April. He's got the bluest eyes I've ever seen." Alison replied affectionately.

Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows, "It seems like there's a new Weasley every year. You must make a fortune in baby-sitting."

The teen shook her head; "Mum would kill me if I charged family. Which will become difficult since there are so many of us, and Uncle Charlie's wife will be due around Christmas. Little Harry won't be the baby in the family for long."

The tinkling of broken glass filled the air. Professor Lupin had dropped his cup, "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

Alison muttered a quick _Reparo_, and then said, "Harry won't be the baby for long. Uncle Ron picked the name. Harry James Weasley. Why?"

The gray haired man shook his head briskly, "No reason, I need to go get my things prepared for my first class," He began to walk away, than rushed back and handed her a slip of paper, "It's you schedule for this year," He squinted as if he was inspecting her, "Your eyes look much darker then I remember, must be the lighting in here."

Then, the professor left Alison, alone and feeling quite puzzled, in the Great Hall.

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"Connor, how do I look to you?"

The boy looked up from where he was eating his lunch. He gave his friend a quick look over, and then cautiously replied, "Is this a trick question that will get me hit no matter how I answer?"

"I mean how do my eyes look? Professor Lupin said they looked darker then usual this morning." Alison replied.

The brunette studied her face for a minute, "They are darker and your hair as well, it looks like someone put a bad dye spell on it," He shot Becca a suspicious look.

"Why is it when anything weird happens it's my fault! I'm just an innocent bystander." The brown-eyed girl was waving her sandwich for emphasis.

Alison snorted as she fished a tomato out of her robe, "Please Becca, you're about as innocent as a kneazle with a mouse," She stood up, "We should get going, we have potions next, you know how Professor Parkinson can get."

Shuddering, Connor pushed his plate away, "Merlin, Alison, I swear you practice just the worst possible thing to say. Honestly, who wants to think of that pug face while they're eating?"

"Connor! She. Is. A. Professor." Alison said in an indignation voice.

"That doesn't stop her from being a biased pug who secretly wants to feed us poison," Becca had seemingly appeared from nowhere, "Well, not you so much Alison, but that's because you ace at potions."

Alison blushed and began to walk faster, "Hurry or we'll be late."

Incidentally, the trio arrived early, so as they waited for Parkinson, they discussed the upcoming Quidditch trials. Each house would have to bring in fresh meat this year; Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw needed Chasers, Slytherin a Seeker, and Gryffindor a Keeper. Becca tried to subtly hint that Connor should try for Keeper, of course, Becca is about as subtle as tap dancing cabbages.

"Keeper! You think I'd make Keeper? Have you had one to many Bludgers to the head?" Connor said exasperatedly.

"I don't see why your getting your knickers in a twist," Becca replied huffily, "You fly brilliantly and it's in your blood! Quidditch skills are hereditary, everyone knows that."

"So you think that my dad playing when he was at Hogwarts means I'll be on the team as well? Have you even considered that things like this are chosen by your skill, not your parents?" Connor snapped.

"Of course it is all about skill! You have skill, but no one is going to know if you keep it such a big bloody secret!" Becca replied gesturing wildly with her arms.

The two sixth years didn't notice that Alison had slipped into the classroom until the bell rang. They tried to slip into the room unnoticed…

"Miss Weasley and Mister Wood, kindly explain why you are crawling on the floor like infants,"

Every head turned to stare at the pair, who quickly sprang to their feet. Connor's face had turned an alarming shade of red. "We were trying to sneak into class before you noticed we were missing, Professor," Becca blurted bluntly.

Parkinson gave them a look over before replying, "Five points from Gryffindor each and you'll be serving detention on Saturday. Be aware I am only being lenient in my punishment because it is your first day back to classes. Now take your seats and begin your potion."

The Slytherins snickered as the Connor joined Alison and Becca, Dylan Moss, a Muggle-born Gryffindor. Alison quickly brought her friend up to speed, they were making a complicated sleeping draught that would take at least a two days worth of classes, because it had to sit in moonlight for several hours before the mooncalf tears diluted.

Sending the boy off with a list of ingredients, Alison started to put the potion together with what she had in her student kit. Slicing and skinning, the girl was in her element. Potions were the only O.W.L. she had received 'Outstanding' in. She began to hum under her breath, as she stirred the now blue potion seven times clock ways, then twelve counter clock ways.

When Parkinson finally came around to check their progress, Connor and Alison's were the only Gryffindors who got the proper shade of mauve, Cassandra Thomas and Tracy Jones coming in a close second, theirs was plum.

The bell rang and they were dismissed, Becca griping about how she had singed her thick hair. Alison assured her nobody would be able to notice. As they jumped the trick step on their way to Care of Magical Creatures, Alison felt her stomach throb and eyes began to sting. "You lot go ahead, I'll catch up in a minute. I think I got some soot in my eyes," the Gryffindor said as she made the turn towards the lavatory.

"Just don't be late!" Becca called as the door closed.

The throbbing in her stomach had worsened and fearing she would be sick, Alison rushed into a stall and locked the door. She dry heaved for a moment, until the spasms passed. She rested her face on the cool porcelain and vowed to write home before dinner. Now that her stomach had settled, Alison noticed that her eyes had stopped hurting.

Walking to the sink, the teen turned on the tap and cupped her hands, splashing the cool water onto her face. Wiping her face dry with her sleeve, Alison looked into the mirror to check her hair. And promptly began to scream. She felt horridly dizzy for a moment, and then the world went black.

**A/N: Cliffhanger! Well, kind of, most of you probably know what happened.**

**jimmy-loves-hermione: This chapter and the next should explain it pretty well. :gives out cupcake:**

**The Allknowing Tonks: A spell would work, but spells can be broken more easily than potions, and Violet is a bit thick, she just noticed. :gives out cupcake:**

**simply infatuated: Clever thing! You're right:gives out cupcake:**

**rasberitwist: Parseltoungeness BRILLIANCE:gives out cupcake:**

**Look at all those lucky people getting baked goods and such! You could become one of them, just review. Until the next chapter!**

**M.**


	4. Of Lies And Harceler

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, it would be dosed heavily with yummy slashiness.**

_My head is hurts. Make it stop. _The words pulsed through Alison's head. Groggily, she opened her eyes and let out a little moan. The room was bright, as if someone was reflecting the sun of a mirror and into her eyes. From what she could tell, it was also empty. "Where am I?"

The question was rhetorical and the teen didn't expect an answer, but one came anyway, "Physically your knocked out in the Hospital Wing. Technically you're dreaming."

The voice was undeniably male, "Too make a long story short, you passed out. Were brought to Madame Pomfrey and this is all just a dream. You'll be waking up in a minute."

"Wait, I'm not done asking-" Alison began, but was interrupted.

"Your mum and Draco are really worried. We can talk later. Until we meet again."

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"Ginny, she's awake! Oh Merlin, you scared us. Don't ever do that again," Dad jumped as soon as he saw Alison's eyes open.

"Mep?" Was the only response she could give however, because Mum launched into the bed, hugging her tightly.

"Mrs. Malfoy, my patient needs to breathe if she is to recuperate!" Snapped Madame Pomfrey as she pushed her way through a sea of Weasleys, "How are you feeling?"

"Me?" Alison blinked dazedly, "My head is all fuzzy feeling. Is that normal?"

"Considering you've been unconscious for nearly twelve hours after hitting your head on a sink and bleeding on the bathroom floor, I'd have to say yes. You'll be healthy as a hippogriff by tomorrow morning. But, everyone excluding your parents will have to leave."

There was a fair amount of grumbling as everyone left, mostly from Bryan, who was shooting the nurse death glares. As soon as the room emptied, Madame Pomfrey locked the door. She gave the three a sad nod, "Take all the time you need dearies."

Dad nodded mutely and Mum picked a shoebox of the end table. It looked old and Alison recognized the scrawl as her mother's. _Harry_, it was the only writing on the box. Harry, who was he? Surely not Ron and Hermione's son, he was too young. The only other Harry she had ever heard of was…

"Harry Potter? The boy who killed Him all those years ago?"

Dad nodded as Mum placed the box in her lap, and carefully removed the lid, as if the whole thing would shatter if handled to roughly. She pulled out what seemed to be letters tied with a green ribbon and handed them to her daughter, "If you want, you can read them later, but first I want to show you the pictures."

Alison set the yellowing parchment aside and stared attentively at her parents. Dad gave Mum's hand a light squeeze and she continued, "I knew Harry very well. He was best mates with Ron and Hermione, he spent nearly every summer at The Burrow."

In the picture, Uncle Ron and Auntie Hermione were standing outside The Burrow, a dark haired boy in between the two of them. They all waved energetically and none of them looked a day older than fourteen.

"Harry was in Gryffindor and played Seeker ever since his first year, if you don't count the time he was banned during his fifth by that stupid Umbridge woman," Mum scowled slightly.

"Stay focused love, Umbridge can't bother us anymore," Dad chastised lightly.

Mum passed another picture. Harry was alone in this one, broomstick slung over his shoulder. He was smiling cheerily and his eyes looked amused. Alison had to admit; there was something adorable about the way his glasses were slipping off his nose. He looked older than her.

"We dated shortly in my fifth year," Mum said, "He was very endearing."

"What about dad?" Alison asked, not quite able to tear herself from the green eyes.

Her mother looked amused, "Draco was a bit of a git back at school, but he grew out of it. A little bit anyways. Hey! Be nice!"

She had just dodged an incoming hand; "We broke it off a few weeks later. Right after Dumbledore' s funeral, he wanted to keep me safe, but it didn't quite work. I think he was in love with me, but all I had was a schoolgirl crush. Then, he went to fight in the war. I joined even though I was underage."

Harry was not smiling in this picture. Those green eyes looked dim and his face seemed thinner. He looked grave and was discussing something intently with Uncle Ron. Their lips moved noiselessly, with the occasional gesture of hands. They didn't even seem to notice that Alison was watching. She flipped the picture over; on the back someone had written _summer 1999_.

"He looks so old. Nothing like that last photo," Alison said quietly.

"The war was hard on everyone. But especially Harry," Dad was talking now, "He tried to be optimistic, but after a while he stopped. People were dying and he had suddenly become the leader of the light side. I had just become a spy for him. We were eighteen and already qualified soldiers."

It was a party. Everyone had crowded into the photograph, all surrounding Auntie Hermione and a cake with 21 written on it in blue letters. She was smiling, but it looked strained. Alison searched and finally found Harry, holding a little girl in his arms. She looked curiously at him with big brown eyes. She seemed to be about two, it was probably Emma.

"That was the last photo taken with Harry in it. It was in September. We began two weeks later. Harry died on Halloween, but he took Voldemort with him," Dad's voice was almost a whisper.

"There are more pictures if you want to look at them. I also have some of Harry's old things. He left them for me," Mum's head was bowed.

"This is all fascinating. But why are you telling me about him?" Alison asked.

The adults shared a mournful look. Mum replied, "Since you can't meet him in the flesh, I thought you had every right to know about your birth father."

"No, you're lying." Alison said calmly.

"I'm so sorry Alison, I wish it wasn't true. I wish we didn't have to tell you. It would be an insult to his memory if you didn't know." Draco said, voice cracking.

"Daddy, stop lying! Why are you lying to me? You always said lying was wrong." Alison looked around franticly.

Mum was crying pitifully, "I'm so sorry. So sorry, baby. I wish it were a lie. I'm a terrible mother. Draco isn't your birth father. I'm so sorry."

"No. No. No."

"Alison please stop."

"Lies! You lie! No!"

"I'm so sorry baby."

"NO! NO! IT'S ALL LIES!"

"I'm so sorry, love." That was the last thing Alison heard before the man she once held the title of 'Daddy' stunned her.

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"You're back sooner then I thought. I assume it didn't go well." The voice was gentle.

"They've been lying all my life. How could they?" Alison sat head in her hands.

"They just wanted to keep you safe. They both love you very much. You would have found out sooner or later, anyway," The man sighed, "It's better to know now then on their deathbed's. Please, open your eyes."

Alison obeyed and saw the room was a deep blue. Bits of furniture was scattered around. In one corner was a young man with blue eyes and soft brown hair. He was wearing jeans and a fading polo shirt, "Do you like it?"

The girl nodded, "It's very nice, but why blue?"

He shrugged, "Blue is a calming color. Do you want me to change it?"

"No, it's nice. Relaxing. Who are you anyway?"

"A guardian angel thing? I dunno, really. I've just been watching over you, making sure you don't get into any serious trouble," The brunette sighed, "I can't tell you my real name, but you can call me Harceler. It's French, I think."

"Harceler? I can check it. I take lessons with Professor Lupin, but you probably knew that. Do you live here?" Alison surprised herself with her serene voice.

"Yes, I stay here when I have free time, or when I want to visit you. Otherwise I can go anywhere and see anyone," Harceler had a crestfallen expression.

"You're able to go anywhere? It must be amazing to have that freedom," Alison heard her voice dim.

Harceler stood up, "It's one of the good things about being dead."

The room was spinning, reminding Alison of ocean waves in the storm. "What's going on?" She asked to the young man, who was becoming steadily less visible.

"You're falling into a deeper sleep, too deep for me to keep our connection," The voice was still there, though the face and body had already died away.

After the girl had disappeared and the brunette man stood in the middle of the room, waiting. A door appeared and he could hear the other's calling. Giving the place where Alison sat on last mournful glance he whispered, "Bonne nuit, mon doux fille, maintenant vous rêvez."

**A/N: The Good:**

**Almost the weekend, meaning I'll have more time to work on updates.**

**The Bad:**

**My first midterm exam is tomorrow. **

**The Reviewers: **

**simply infatuated: Sorry, you won't see the external changes until the next chapter. :gives out moose track ice cream:**

**The Allknowing Tonks: You're right again. :gives out moose track ice cream:**

**raberiteist: I'm okay, but there is always room to improve. Also, I needed someone with features easy to insult, so why not pug faced Parkinson:gives out moose track ice cream:**

**jimmy-love-hermione: I won't be giving up for a while. :gives out moose track ice cream:**

**Look at all them people, with their delicious sugary food! Review and you can join their noble ranks! Don't feel shy; even the smallest review is greatly appreciated. Until I update again!**

**M.**


	5. Parseltoungeliness

**Disclaimer:sings: All I want for Christmas is Draco wrapped under my tree. **

It was quiet as dawn came to the Hospital Wing. Gray morning light tried to escape form behind closed curtains, a hopeless attempt. Soft hoots floated from where the owls were perched, trying to rest before they were sent out with letters.

With a soft sigh, the only patient began to wake up. She felt warm and contented, a result of the calming potion that had been injected into her arm the night before. Pulling the blanket over her head, Alison realized she was not alone.

"Young mistress, is you awake?" The voice was high-pitched and familiar, "Tawni is bringing you tea!"

"Morning Tawni," Alison de-burrowed herself and saw Tawni with the same tea tray as last time, "Thanks. How did you know I was up here?" She carefully added cream to the cup, her hands feeling inept handling the fine china.

Tawni looked down at her feet, "Tawni is hearing things when she cleans Headmistress MickeyGonnagal's office. Tawni had to burn Tawni's hands in the oven for spying on the Headmistress."

Alison clucked her tongue, "You shouldn't hurt yourself for being curious Tawni. It's only natural. I do hate causing you so much trou-"

"It is no trouble! Tawni is happy to serve young mistress! Tawni was very concerned when young mistress didn't appear for her evening or morning tea. Tawni is remembering an old student when she sees young mistress, he was a very kind boy."

"Who?"

Tawni shook her head, "He is asking Tawni not to tell his secrets. Tawni had already told the old Headmaster about him and the other young master, going around without Master Potter," The elves eyes widened and she began to beat herself with the teapot.

Alison began to panic, the elf was now sobbing and screaming, "BAD TAWNI! YOU IS HURTING YOUNG MISTRESS AND TELLING SECRETS! OH BAD ELF! BAD!"

"Tawni I am ordering you to stop!" Alison yelled and winced at her own tone.

Tawni froze, then returned the teapot to its tray. The teen fell onto her pillow and groaned, she had burnt herself when Tawni had seized the kettle. "Tawni is sorry. Does young mistress want anything before Tawni is going?"

"Yes, would you mind going to my dorm and grabbing the basket I have on my desk?" Alison replied as she examined her scalded hand, "And my wand? I should be able to heal this on my own."

Tawni nodded and with a snap of her long fingers, was gone. Closing her eyes, Alison tried to remember what happened. It was like gazing into a window frosted over, she could make out forms, but the details were blurry. Harceler met her in her dream. Mum had showed her pictures and started to cry, the pictures of Harry. Her father.

Like a wave had washed over her, Alison felt submerged in sorrow. They had lied; she was not a Malfoy, but a Potter. Nana Narcissa wasn't her blood. Bryan was only a half brother. Everything was making sense Harry had been a Parselmouth. Years ago, The Sorting Hat called her interesting. Was this what it meant?

"Young mistress? Is you being alright?"

With a half hiccup half gasp, Alison looked up, Tawni had returned holding the things she had been asked to bring. Wiping the sleeve of her pajamas against her eyes, Alison was surprised to see moist spots. She hadn't realized she had been crying, "I'm fine, Tawni. You can go now."

The elf gave her a inquiring look as she set the basket and wand on the side table and scooped up the tea things, "Is you sure you are being alright?"

Alison managed a watery smile, "Yes, thank you."

Tawni nodded in goodbye and disappeared. Carefully picking up the wand, Alison cast a quick healing spell she had learned last year in Charms. The hand still smarted a bit, but it was now tolerable. "_Nassau? Are you in there?"_

"_Yes. Where were you last night? You never returned I feared you had become some prey's dinner."_

Alison unlatched the basket, _"I had to stay overnight. I hit my head and then, things got worse."_

There was a hiss like gasp as Nassau stuck her head out of the basket, _"Well, I suppose I can't call you Mooneyes anymore, you've shed skins."_

"_What?"_

"_You're appearance. It's different now. Look into the shiny glass human females are always preening in front of…a mirror!"_

Scooping up the snake, Alison made her way to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, the girl raced to the mirror. "Oh Merlin."

Not wanting a repeat of yesterday, Alison clutched the porcelain sink when she felt her knees go weak. The girl in the reflection was her and at the same time it couldn't be.

A thinner face with a light peach skin framed by ebony locks. The hair was messy and probably tangled. There was a band-aid covering one thin eyebrow. The silvery mimic of Dad's eyes were gone. Replaced by a luminous green, she recognized the color.

"_Harry's eyes." _Alison whispered in repulsion, running a through her now black hair and getting it stuck in a ferocious knot_, "Oh God, I look like Harry."_

"_Who is Harry, please tell me?" _Nassau sounded slightly desperate.

Glaring at her new face, the green-eyed girl replied,_ "He's nobody. Just my father."_

"_But the pale man, you call him-"_

"_They lied to me." _The girl's voice trembled and she broke down sobbing.

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"Alison, I know you're upset, but this is ridiculous!" Connor was currently yelling at the bathroom door, in which Alison had hidden and taken Becca hostage.

There was muttering, then Becca shouted back, "She says she refuses to leave when you're out there," A brief pause, "And she now refuses to talk."

Groaning, the brunette boy preceded to beat his head against the nearest wall. From where he was lounging in one of the beds, Bryan shook his head, "Just when I thought you couldn't get stupider," The Slytherin flicked his wand at the door, "_Alohamora!_"

There was an outraged cry as Connor quickly darted into the bathroom, "You idiot! Get out, I could've been naked!"

"But you weren't," Becca pointed out as Alison glared through the doorway at her brother.

Connor gave a small smile, "It's not all bad."

"You've got to be kidding! I've you seen what happened to me," The green-eyed girl said in an almost yell.

"I'm not, Alison, you look good as a blackhead."

Connor was quite confused as Alison began to sob and Becca shoved him out of the room, muttering "Moron."

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A day later, Alison found herself trudging off to her first lesson. Becca was at her side, Connor wisely following behind, he had yet to be forgiven. For the first time ever, Nassau was accompanying the trio to class, safely hidden around Alison's neck.

"Now what do we have here? The terrible three has finally split up, this calls for celebration," The voice was horribly familiar.

"Go get a life, Smith." Alison retorts, not even turning to face the girl.

"So the ilitnew girl doesn't like me! Why don't you turn around, blackie?"

Alison does as she was told, "My name is Malfoy. Get it right."

Violet makes a comment, and Connor and Becca are now separating the two.

"Come on, Alison. She's just a waste of time."

Becca leads her friend to class, Connor now at their side. They try to distract her with small talk, bad jokes, and insults to Violet and her voice's resemblance to a dying hippogriff. Like a robot, she answers, laughs and agrees, but silently wishes she could curl up and die.

She loved her friends for trying to help, but Violet's comment was etched in her mind. 'You're as much a Malfoy as I am.'

"_Greeneyes, is something wrong?" _Nassau asked, using her temporary pet name for Alison.

"_No, just first day back jitters." _Alison replies in a shaky hiss.

"_I could bite her, you know, the blonde girl."_

"_Nassau, you're not poisonous."_

"_It would still scare her," _The snake shrugged, quite a feat for someone with no shoulders.

"_Thanks, but no."_

"Miss Malfoy! Miss Weasley! Mister Wood!"

Alison's head snapped up, along with Connor's and Becca's. Headmistress McGonagall was looking at them sternly from behind her spectacles. Alison was about to say something, but the bell rang. "Kindly explain why you are late for class."

"We were stopped by a seventh year in the hall," Connor says a bit timidly, something about the Headmistress has always frightened him.

Lips a thin line, the Headmistress replies, "Wood, Weasley, you are free to go. Malfoy, may I have a word?"

With one last glance at her friends, Alison nodded, and followed Headmistress McGonagall. The aged witch lead her an empty corridor. (Actually they were all empty what with class being in session.) She gives the dark haired girl a disapproving look, "I can deal with you bringing a pet snake, if it is only because of your…"

The older woman seemed at a loss of words. Hiding a grin, Alison says, "My parseltoungliness?"

"This is not a joke, Miss Malfoy. Your father's family has a reputation for not be the most…law abiding. If word caught that you had a talent that Lord Voldemort possessed, the rumors would spread like wildfire."

"Why should they? My father was a Parselmouth," Alison replies.

"I was unaware Draco could-" The Headmistress was interrupted.

"Not Draco. Surely you noticed my new appearance," Alison raised a single eyebrow.

"Yes, but, they'll think its just some spell," The old woman supplied weakly.

Alison shook her head, "We may just be kids, but were not stupid. Now, if you don't mind, I've got to get to potions and it's a long walk to the dungeons."

Alison turned heel and left, and after she was gone, McGonagall shook her head. Alison was not stupid, but she was a child, and eventually all these secrets and lies would make her crack. "Her father went through the same thing, it's a shame the saying is true in this case. Like father, like daughter, but I hope this time we have a happier ending."

**A/N: I apologize for taking so long in updating, part of it is working on some of my older fics, but most of it is procrastination.**

**nouvelle.vie: Gah! I'm nothing to be jealous of. Here's your update. : offers forgiveness muffin:**

**lily9306: Sorry it made you sad, but glad you like it: offers forgiveness muffin:**

**simply infatuated: You've never heard of Moose Tracks!?! You poor thing. : offers forgiveness muffin:**

**rasberitwist: As for the guardian. Things are not always what they appear. : offers forgiveness muffin:**

**The Allknowing Tonks: Allie's just feeling upset. The anger will turn into teenage angst, but she'll get over it. And as for her guardian, ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies. : offers forgiveness muffin:**

**swirling bloom: You're too kind! And my first anonymous reviewer: spazzes over this fact and :offers forgiveness muffin:**


	6. The Truth In Front Of Them

**Disclaimer: If you don't own and you know it clap you're hands:claps:**

"Who are you and why are you interrupting my lesson?" Parkinson glared from her desk as Alison entered the room.

"Sorry, but the Headmistress asked to talk to me, I promise I won't be late again, professor," Alison mumbled as she took the only empty seat.

"I was not aware I was getting a new student. What's you're name?"

The ebony haired girl blushed, "It's me, Alison Malfoy."

"Remove that silly glamour charm, Malfoy, or I'll take points."

"No," Alison replied softly, "I can't."

"I am your teacher, now do as I say," Parkinson ordered.

"I can't!"

"Oh," With a sneer on her face, Parkinson resembled a pug more than ever, "If you refuse then I will have to remove it myself. I will not accept such nonsense in my class. _Finte Incantatem_."

The spell hit, but all the girl did was blink. Everyone, excluding Connor and Becca, seemed shocked. Parkinson seemed to be muttering to herself, "I should have know, she looks just like Potter. It's a wonder she can actually brew anything. Poor Draco, I wonder if he knows-"

Alison desperately wanted to say _'He does'_, but instead uncorked her bottle of ink. From the state of the board, today they would be taking notes. She quickly jotted down what was on the board. One Slytherin raised her hand, "Professor Parkinson, are we going to continue the notes?"

"Of course," Parkinson turned back to the board "Now, after you've stirred the unicorn hair for three minutes, you must add the essence of salam…"

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For once, Alison wished that Defense wasn't filled with Ravenclaws. Usually, they would be eager to answer and that let Gryffindors all relax, but today, instead of the text, the blue and silver clad students seemed to want to study her.

"Amazing," One boy breathed in awe, "To come up with a potion that hide its effects from the drinker. Brilliance-"

"Or," Butted in a girl Alison thought was called Amanda, "Lack of ability to detect the potion because of a type of resistance to side effects. Or, she may have never noticed the effects."

"Impossible! No one is that thick," The boy replied, "Besides, you have to experiment with several different types of appearance changing charms and potions and some that provide other effects!"

"Um, guys," Alison bleakly waved a hand in their faces, "Still here you know."

He boy peered at her, "And you would be?"

Alison groaned and began to beat her head on her desk.

"Poor Gryffindor," Said the girl as she returned to her seat, "Probably killing off all the brain cells that she has left."

The boy sagely replied, "Not much to kill then. She _is _a Gryffindor."

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"It' a shame," Becca sighed during break.

"What?" Asked Alison from where she was flipping pages from a giant tome.

"Us," Becca answered mournfully, "Sixteen and alone. And with a ball come Christmas,"

Alison head shot up, "What ball? Did I miss a memo or something?"

"Oh!" Becca said smacking herself on the head, "I forgot, McGonagall announced when you were in the Hospital Wing. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh years are having a ball at Christmas. To try and get house loyalty or some rubbish that."

"We've never had a ball before," Alison said curiously.

"I know, madness right?" Becca sighed again, "Shame we don't have many good looking chaps in this place. That we aren't related to, of course."

"Oh! The pains of being part Weasley, half the Wizarding world in off limits," Alison smiled, "Hey now, cheer up! There are easier things the finding the perfect guy, like nailing jell-o to the Whomping Willow for example."

Quickly snatching Alison's book, Becca beaned her with it.

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Alison wrote a letter to her parent thatnight and sent Marron, Connor's owl, off with it. "To my house," Alison instructed the bird, "You know where that is right?"

Marron hooted softly and took off, Connor shook his head in disgust, "Bloody thing likes you better than me. What's your secret?"

Alison shrugged, Becca nodded. "It is quite odd," The dark skinned girl replied, "Seeing as you and Alicat are one in the same."

"Don't call me Alicat!" Alison cried in unison with Connor's "What do you mean?"

"You see," Becca said edging to the door, "Your both birds. Lovebirds to be exact."

The two turned bright red. Faintly noticing that her clashed horridly with Alison's green eyes, Becca began to run. Conner and Alison were quick to follow.

Nassau, who had hidden herself in Connor's pocket, shook her head, "_How typical of humans…denying the truth, even when it rests in front of them." _

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"The snake, it is wise," Harceler observed from his chair, "Mother, can animals be Seers?"

"It has never been recorded," Answered a woman who's hair held the silvery gray of age.

"But, Lys, few have been able to speak the tongue of animals," Argued another, a man,

who was called Cerf.

"You make a good point. I'll have to look into it," The woman, Lys, turned back to Harceler, "Do you wish to ask more about the circumstances surrounding your…girl?"

"No," Harceler responded, bowing his head in respect.

"I call this meeting dismissed then. Evening meal will be ready soon, try not to be late, Son." Cerf said as he walked next to Lys, arm around her waist.

"Yes, Father. I wish to talk to Chien for a moment though," The brunette turned to an older man, whose eyes were bright silver.

"You wished to talk?" The man smiled warmly.

"Yes, I want to spend more time with the girl," Harceler added, "To know her, I have the right."

Chien replied, "Yes, but not your mother's permission."

"Permission didn't stop you before," Harceler said, Chien's smile began to disappear, "You would visit him before Mother allowed. You didn't care then."

"That is different," Chien replied quietly, "You know it was."

"Why? Why is it so different for you and him?" The blue eyes flashed irately.

"You know why," Chien whispers, "He and I were in love. I waited for him and I still am. Though, I'm in no rush for him to join me of course."

"But she is my-"

"It is not wise to speak of such things. No matter what or where you are, there will always be ears waiting." Chien stood up, "Evening meal will be ready soon. You have to remember, there are reasons for everything and if you are patient you will know the one you want."

After the older man had left, Harceler remained in his seat, gazing at the ceiling, slowly it changed into the night sky, patch worked with stars. It was beautiful, with the ghostly pale moon a sliver in the corner.

"In another room, in different place, Alison and I see the same sky. They can't keep that from me," The young man stayed there until his mother called.

With time, her could convince them. Alison would soon need more guidance then the dreams could give. She would need someone to not only be a mentor, but a friend. He had been chosen to watch over her for a reason and the same reason would be his main defense.

He only hoped it would be accepted

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**A/N: Once again, I apologize for the long wait in-between chapters. With Christmas fast approaching, I was caught up with gift wrapping, hoping for snow, and a four-hour trip to get to my cousin's house. Things have calmed down a bit, so I can put this up. But first I have to thank rasberitwist, who came up with the word parseltoungliness, which was used in the last chapter. Also, TWENTY-FIVE REVIEWS! That's more than I have on all my other stories put together! Wow and thanks everyone! Whatever holiday you may celebrate, I wish you happy one and a grand new year!**

**simply infatuated: You're too kind. Happy Holidays:gives a ginger bread man named Kyle:**

**lily9306: It would be rather pleasant to feed Violet to a basilisk, but Alison isn't that sadistic. Happy Holidays:gives a ginger bread man named Steve:**

**rasberitwist: Glad you're happy about it. Happy Holidays:gives a ginger bread man named George:**

**jimmy-loves-hermione: Don't worry, just getting a review brightens my day. When it arrives doesn't matter. Happy Holidays :gives a ginger bread man named Bob:**

**Sailor Stella: I'm glad you like it and hope you stick around. Happy Holidays :gives a ginger bread man named Philip:**

**gammer789: Draco briefly mentions it in chapter four, but more detail will come later. Happy Holidays :gives a ginger bread man named Joey:**

**M.**


	7. Man In The Mirror

**Disclaimer: Santa didn't bring me the HP cast this year, so I don't own.**

It was morning when Marron finally reached the Malfoy home. The house was big, but nowhere near the size of the Manor, where Nana Narcissa still lived. The brown owl stopped at the kitchen window, where it began to peck at the glass.

"Gin, we've got an owl," Draco said as he let the bird in.

Marron flew to the table, where he landed on the back of a chair. Ginny stroked the brown plumage gently as she untied the letter. Offering the owl a bit of toast, which it took with a pleased hoot, the redhead opened the letter.

_Dear Mum,_

_Please send my red jumper. I forgot it and it's beginning to get chilly. I'm fine, well as fine as one can be with what has happened recently. Classes are good and the Ravenclaws are only trying to study me a little bit. According to Becca, fourth year and up are having a ball near Christmas; I plan on looking at dresses at the next Hogsmeade weekend. Bryan is trying out for the Slytherin team tomorrow. I hope he makes it. Becca and Connor say hello, and Becca wants to know if you could send her some of your homemade chocolate biscuits. She would prefer them slightly stale, which I think is a bit mad. _

_Love,_

_Alison_

"She didn't mention me once," Draco says from where he was reading over his wife's shoulder, "She hates me, doesn't she?"

"Of course not," Ginny says hugging the man tightly, "Look how messy the handwriting is, the letter had to be written in a rush."

Draco nods and hugs back. That had to be the reason; Alison was still his little girl, even if her face had changed a bit. The blonde quickly summons the jumper and ties it with twine. "Take this with you please," Draco asks the owl, "I'd hate for her to catch cold."

Marron hoots in agreement, and prepares to take off when Ginny stops him to attach a quickly scribbled note. With one glance to make sure that he will not be stopped again, Marron leaves.

The sad truth is Ginny wrote her response it a matter on minutes, Alison had wrote and rewrote the letter three times before she decided it good enough to send.

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Rain had forced Marron to take shelter for two nights, so it wasn't until Sunday afternoon that Alison finally received a response. By that time she had borrowed one of Becca's jumpers. It was an old grey one that was long in the sleeves and didn't flatter her figure at all, but Alison was desperate.

When she heard Connor call, 'Marron is back!' she raced down the stairs almost crying with joy. She quickly spotted Connor and Becca sitting together on one of the sofas, a package in-between them. Alison dived over the back the couch and landed in Connor's lap. "Gimme," She said, grabbing the package and tearing it open.

The red sweater fell out, slightly damp and smelling of home. The dark haired girl hugged it. "It smells like wet dog," Becca says, holding her nose.

"Shut up. It's better than this ugly thing," Alison glares and tosses the grey pullover at the girl; it smacks her in the face.

"Oh ha ha," Becca rolls her eyes, "Now get off Conner, I think he's dying."

Alison crawls off the boy and into the chair next to him. "Sorry mate," She apologizes and slips on the red jumper.

Connor glares and Becca jabs him in the face with her foot. "What is this? Let's Abuse Connor Day?" He asks.

"Of course not silly," Becca answers, "That's on the twenty-seventh. Today we plan."

Her friends stare back at her, confused. Marron had long since flown out the still open window. Finally Alison spoke, "Why are we planning?"

"You two can't be that thick," Becca groaned, silence reigned proving that yes the two could be that thick, "The ball! We need to decide what time will leave for it, who were going with, what we'll wear!"

"Has she gone mad?" Connor asked Alison quietly.

"I do think so," The green-eyed girl thought for a moment, the said, "Shall we go to the kitchens for some cocoa?"

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"Bit early to be studying for exams, isn't it sis?"

Alison looked up from where she was carefully taking notes from a book; Bryan was standing next to her table, an amused smile playing across his face. His cheeks were tinted a pale pink and he seemed to be short of breath, as if he had run all the way to the library.

"Not exams. I researching Dad," Alison yawned and stretched.

"Couldn't you just owl him asking for the information you needed?"

"I meant _my_ dad," Mumbled the dark haired girl.

There was a short pause, and then Alison asked, "Why are you up in the library?"

"To find you," Bryan replied tentatively and adds in one breath, "I'vemadetheteam."

Alison blinks, "Run that by me one more time."

"I made Seeker. My first game will be against Gryffindor, try not to bloody me up too badly." Bryan grins at his older sister, who has jumped out of her chair and is embracing him fiercely.

"Brilliant! You've got to send out owls! Mum will be so pleased she played reserve Seeker. I think in her fourth year. I knew you'd make it squirt-"

"Dad." Bryan's voice was muffled by Alison's arm.

Releasing him, the Gryffindor said, "What?"

"Dad, he played Seeker since his second year, but you've seemed to have forgotten that," The boy turned away from his sister, "I think I will send an owl. _My_ dad will want to know I made the team."

"That stupid brat!" Snarled Alison as she snatched up her books and stomped back to Gryffindor tower.

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"This is the stupidest thing I ever heard of," Complained Becca as she grabbed the Marauder's Map, a Christmas gift from her father.

"No one is making you come," Snapped Alison, "I can make it to the loo by myself. I don't need the Map."

"Calm down, I'm just saying trying to get Moaning Myrtle to tell you about Harry Potter is not on the top of things to do on a Friday night list," Becca said.

"Shame it's Wednesday," Connor replied, jogging slightly to catch up to his friends.

"You can't come with," Alison tells him as they step through the portrait hole.

"Why?" Connor grins, "Are the little girlies sneaking into Hogsmeade to get me Christmas gift? Or are they off to be _naughty_?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, twat," Becca says, playfully shoving the boy into the wall, "We're off to talk to a little dead girl who haunts a U-bend."

Connor blinks, "That sounds less naughty and more…morbid."

"Indeed it is," Alison replies cheerily, "'Sides Myrtle lives in a girl's loo. You'll get in terrible trouble if someone sees you coming out."

"Ah well," Connor shrugs, "What's life without a little adventure, lassies?"

It is a true sign of Connor's loyalty, Alison decides, that he is willing to face a ghost who chooses to live in a toilet, a girl's toilet at that. She will have to make him some type of medal of courage. It shall be scarlet and gold, in honour of Gryffindor, the supposedly bravest house of all.

The steps under her feet disappear, Alison has forgotten to jump the trick stair, "Damn it," She swears as she is swallowed up to her thighs, "Well don't just stand there like idiots, help me out!"

Connor and Becca hadn't missed the step and are failing in an attempt not to laugh out loud at their fallen comrade. They can't help it the picture is funny. Alison, who was what Nana called 'vertically challenged', was glaring at her friends knees and she couldn't look up, because Becca hadn't changed out of her uniform and it would lead to an extremely awkward moment.

Finally, Becca offers a hand and is shocked when it is not bitten off. Instead, Alison latches onto it like a drowning woman to a life ring. There is a squeak and gravity decides to be a son of a hippogriff and makes Becca fall on her friend. While Alison doesn't sink father, she gives a horrified half-shriek and only makes Connor laugh harder. Becca has slipped down a few stairs; the redhead has hit another sinking stair.

Connor finds this positively hilarious. Both girls swear at him, but Becca gives an example of her French, "Le condamnez! Nous aider hors vous le bâtard!"

"Surely you didn't learn that in my French class, Becca?" Professor Lupin gives a wry smile and offers Becca, who is blushing and stuttering, a hand up, "Now seeing as you were using inappropriate language I'll have to deduct five points each, however, Becca, since you obviously did your own research to learn the phrases you chose and you are pronouncing them all correctly I think ten points is in order, no?"

Becca, who was too shocked to speak, nodded. Professor Lupin smiled warmly, "No harm done then. Connor kindly help Alison out of the staircase and you three can be on your way. Careful though, Peeves is hiding in a suit of armour near the library. I think he's planning on emptying ink bottles on the next students heads."

The grey haired man side-stepped around Connor, who was pulling Alison out, almost not hearing his three students breathe, "He is the most brilliant teacher ever."

It was moments like that he would use to encourage himself not to beat his head repeatedly on his desk when all his classes seemed hopeless.

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The trio decided that fate was obviously against them, so they decided to give up on the plan to visit Myrtle, for tonight at least. All three had a painfully long essay due in Transfiguration on Friday, but they decided that a nice stress relieving game of Exploding Snape was just what the Healer ordered.

After she received a rather painful burn to her ear, Alison announced, "I like my body parts where they are and will read happily while you two reduce yourselves to piles of ashes."

"Yes," Becca winced as a card exploded in her hand, "And I'll laugh when you inhale too much book dust and have an allergy attack so violent your nose will shoot off and Bryan will have to use his Seeking skills to find it."

"Pah," Alison flopped onto the floor, since no couches were available, "Bryan is a terrible brat. Let's talk about something else."

Connor raised his eyebrows, "The Malfoy siblings feuding? Must be the end of the world as we know it."

Rolling her eyes, Becca asked, "What did he do?"

"He said something horrid to me. End of story. Change of topic," Alison said forcefully and returned to her book.

Connor and Becca exchanged a worried glance at their friend's expense, but it didn't last more then a moment, because from behind her book Alison had jinxed all the cards to all explode in a great fiery blast. Everyone in the common jumps slightly at the blast. When the smoke clears, the two sixth years are covered in soot.

"I'm off to bed," Alison yawns and pinches out the small flame that was burning in Connor's hair, " 'Night all."

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Midnight, the sky was dark and the occasional owl hoot filled the air. Restlessness had taken hold of Alison hours ago, flipping over she sighed and sat up. From her basket Nassau hissed, "_Where are you going Greeneyes?"_

"_Just a quick walk. Don't worry," _Alison pulled on her trainers and tiptoed to the door.

No late night crammers haunted the common room, so Alison slipped out unnoticed. The Fat Lady didn't even stir when her portrait was carefully closed. She wandered around for a few moments, and then decided to return to the dorms. Unbeknownst to her, the stairs had shifted when she had stopped to study a portrait of a sleeping baby; it had looked strangely familiar to her mother's baby pictures.

Following the path that would usually lead her back to her dormitory, Alison instead found herself outside a wooden door. "Curious," Alison whispered to herself, "I don't remember this."

The little voice that always told her to do the right thing, and sounded disturbingly like Uncle Percy, was screaming, 'Don't go in there! It's bad enough you're out after curfew, but sneaking into rooms! What would you mother say?'

This voice however was quickly drowned out by the sound of her own curiosity pounding like a drum. Open it. Open it. Open it. Alison gave in and slowly turned the handle on the door, which she identified as mahogany. The room was small, holding only one window and a mirror. There is an inscription across the top, in a language she can't read and as if pulled by invisible strings, Alison walks foreword and raises her hand to trace the letters with soft fingertips.

But, she stops, hand still outstretched. Alison stares at her reflection, she is not shocked by her own appearance, though it is what she calls her 'new body'. Same black hair that is slowly becoming more hopeless to get a comb through. Green eyes that are sparkling happily. But the mouth is a warm smile, not open with the clichéd 'o' of surprise and her arm is at her side. Slowly a figure materializes on her side, a man, tall and wearing glasses. She recognizes him instantly. Harry Potter.

He has a fatherly type of handsomeness about him. He is talking and Alison struggles to read his lips. _Watch._ The girl obeys and suddenly two more appear. Another man resembling Harry, only with hazel brown eyes and a woman who's hair is a coppery red. With a small gasp, Alison notices that their eyes are the same. They must be related to Harry. Related to her.

Somewhere a clock chimes, signalling that Alison has been out for an hour. It is one o clock. Regretfully, Alison tears herself from the mirror, but vows to return. She slips out the door and tries her best to remember the path she took in the first place. After a while Alison finds herself in front of the Fat Lady, who is not pleased to be awoken.

In the afternoon Alison will be in the library again, pouring over books and taking notes. She knows somewhere in the library there is something that can point her inn the right direction. She will owl as many people as possible and set up interviews. She plans to ask the villagers of Hogsmeade if they remember a boy who once walked down the streets and visited their shops.

It had started as a curiosity of what type of a person her birth father was. Quickly it turned into an obsession of who she was. Where everything she knew about the Malfoy family history has resided for sixteen years in her mind there is now a strange empty feeling circulating around a new surname, Potter. The empty feeling quickly turned into an ache, like hunger, only it lived in her mind and heart instead of stomach and couldn't be satisfied so easily.

What Alison saw in the mirror only increases the longing for knowledge and makes the empty feeling seem vast, but for now she will sleep. Perhaps dreams can fill the emptiness, if only for a little while.

**A/N: WTF? An update in less then a week? It must be a post-holiday miracle! Anyway since I know it will be asked, Becca's phrase is very roughly translated to: 'Damn it! Help us you bastard!' I mean it when I say roughly; I can't speak French if my life depended on it. So I hope it never does.**

**jimmy-love-hermione: Bob is a name the evokes universal happiness. In my opinion anyway. :gives out smore:**

**Nymphadora: It's not James or a love interest, but that's all I can say. :gives out smore:**

**rasberitwist: The Ravenclaw, they entertain me. Glad I'm not alone in that. :gives out smore:**

**Sailor Stella: I wish I could say, but I can't. My cat says it's top-secret information. Sorry. :gives out smore:**


	8. Feeding Friends To The Squid

**Disclaimer: It is my dream, to one day buy the HP cast on eBay, then the fun shall begin.**

"You can't make me leave! I have rights! I'll sic my snake on you!" Alison yelled as Conner and Becca tried to pry her from the library table.

"_Don't drag me into this." _Nassau had a strange talent of hiding in the oddest places, this time she was nested a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, and Alison made a mental note to throw the box out later.

"_Sissy."_ She told the snake before turning back to her friends, "Nassau says she will protect me fiercely from you fiends!"

"Alison, you have been in here since classes ended on Friday," Becca said, "You are delusional, probably dehydrated, and I hate to say it, but girl, a hot shower wouldn't kill you."

Alison sniffs, whether it is haughtily or to see if she smells, Conner is not sure, probably a mixture of both. Her eyes, which he is still a bit surprised to see as emerald instead of silver, are flashing in anger. Alison's temper is a bit of a legend; older Gryffindors often tell tales about Alison's more memorable fits to scare them. There are grains of truth in few of them, but both Conner and Becca have the occasional scar to bear witness.

"Come on, you remember what the outside world is like? Trees, fresh air, and all that rubbish," Connor says jokingly as Alison glared back.

"You two owe me," The green eyed girl stated as she piled a load if books into the boy's arms, "Carry these. We'll do our Astronomy homework later tonight."

Then Alison turned heel and walked out of the library, her friends trying to catch up. "Poor girl," Whispered Becca, "All stressed out and nobody to choke."

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"Took you long enough. Insomnia?"

Alison blinks, she must have fallen asleep, because Harceler is staring at her. "Yeah, I've been going through a lot of stuff. Reading loads of books too."

The brunette rolls his eyes, "It's not safe to spend that much time in enclosed spaces. You'll go crazy and wind up being an old lady who will die alone surround by thousands of cats."

"I hate cats."

"Fine you'll be surrounded by thousands of snakes. So have you got a date for the Christmas Ball yet?"

Alison began to laugh at the boy, "Merlin, you act like such a girl sometimes."

"Do I now?" Replied Harceler with raised eyebrows, "May I note that you never answered the question?"

"No date as of yet. Becca is getting quite concerned. Me, not so much. Next question, if you don't mind."

"Kay," Harceler looked thoughtful for a moment, and then his blue eyes light up wickedly, "You're crushing on someone. Tell!"

"Do I have to?" Whined Alison, blushing.

"Yes, now spill it."

"Fine," Huffed the inky haired teen, "I wouldn't really call this a crush, because I know him. I talk to him everyday, but yet I can never have him. He's right next to me, but yet I can never have him. Its like I'm speeding through the air on a broom trying catch up to him. Sometimes I slow down because an obstacle is in my way, but then I speed up again. I never seem to catch up to him, but I still keep trying."

Harceler blinks, "You've been thinking about this, for quite a while it seems. Who is he?"

"Sorry, no can do," Alison replied, "That's enough of baring my soul for tonight, thanks."

"Chicken," The boy muttered under his breath.

The two talked much longer this time, even after Alison had physically faded into deep sleep. Harceler was straining to keep the connection alive, after all, it's not like he had anything better to do.

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It was one of those rare warm sunny days towards the end of September, so the three Gryffindors decided to have a picnic outside and would later fly around the Quidditch pitch before Ravenclaw came out to practice. They had chosen a much-coveted spot under an old tree that sat on the lake's edge, the old trunk engraved with thousands of initials, earning it the title of 'The Lovers' Oak'.

"This thing must be ancient, look at all the names," Becca said softly as she absently mindedly traced patterns on the trunk, "How long do you guys reckon this thing has been here?"

"Dunno," Connor shrugged, "Fifty, maybe forty years?"

"Wrong," Alison replied passively, "Think since about nineteen-fifty."

"How do you know that?"

"Because, my dear cousin, I have enough brain cells to do a little something called reading," Alison rolled her eyes.

"Connor," The redhead whined, "Alison's being mean!"

The boy gave Alison a 'thumbs up' sign of approval, "Good job. Now if you lasses are done discussing old trees, can we get flying?"

Becca snorted, "If what you can do can be called flying. We are trained professionals."

"Funny thing that," Connor replied as he stood up, "Seeing as you were the one begging me to join the Quidditch team only a few weeks ago."

"The times have changed," Becca sighed dramatically, "The tables have turned. The shoe is on the other foot. The Quaffle isn't on your side of the pitch anymore."

_Thwap!_

"I would have never guessed apples would splatter on someone's head like that. Amazing," Connor giggled as Becca tried to claw apple mush out of her hair.

Mum was constantly saying to treat everyone equally…

_Twonk!_

The three did not go flying that afternoon, Alison had returned to the library and Becca and Connor had spent nearly an hour in their respective showers, but they still smelled of applesauce three days later.

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The last traces of summer had long since disappeared and now the Hogwarts grounds enveloped in piles of leaves, burning scarlet of golden yellow, predicting the imminent winter. October had arrived, swift and frigid. Couples were now using the cold as an excuse to cuddle as they took walks across the grounds, their cloaks would swish as one and finger would entwine. A vision of autumn romance that warmed the heart of the participants and onlookers the same. It was such a day, October 12th to be exact, and quite a few couples were taking advantage of the weak morning sun, anxious to enjoy the outdoors together, before harsh winter winds limited them to the castle, where no where was private and professors and prefects swarmed.

If the three sixth years, which had unofficially been dubbed 'The Trio', had looked out a window they would have taken in the scene, all with different perspectives. Becca saw it as tender and romantic and would secretly dream of the day she would walk with some boy, silent except for the soft crunch of leaves and the occasional swish of cloaks inn the wind. Connor would watch in amusement, laughing at the idea that some boys would ever act like it. Alison would gag at the sight, then return to her latest Veela Romance Novel, the hypocrite.

Today, however, Alison was still asleep, deciding that her latest find, _Bacio_, was not worth waking up anytime past noon on a Saturday. (All nighters in the library meant she would no longer wake at dawn to have tea.) Pity for her, both Becca and Connor have different plans, but since no boy had ever managed to sneak into the girl's dormitory, Becca is flying solo. Apathetically, she enters the room and snatches up the book. The girl grins, brown eyes lighting up mischievously.

'Oh dear,' Was the first logical thought in Alison's morning haze, 'I appear to be drenched in water. Bugger, sounds like someone has taken my book as well.'

Indeed, Becca was reading from the paperback book, "_'Drawn like a moth to the flame of your love, to the light of your spirit, to the heat of your passion, to the incandescent beauty of your soul...I'll never tire of playing with fire, as long as that fire is you. Rose, run away with me, forget this world that can not accept us.' Alec cried grasping her pale petite hands in his own strong tanned ones. Rose cheeks flushed, the pretty color of her name and with tenderness in her eyes she turned to the man in front of her, 'Alec, my dearest Alec, your skin glows like that of the sweetest peach. Your eyes, vivid as the violet grapes that grow in the vineyards. Your lips, red as cherries and twice as sweet_- ", Becca looked at her water logged friend, "Now is she describing this bloke or a fruit salad? I'm a bit confused."

Alison smiled sweetly, "Becca, my cousin, my chum, let me tell you a story. Now, this girl named, oh, let's call her Decca. Now Decca woke up her cousin very early on a Saturday morning and do you know what this cousin did to Decca?"

The dark skinned girl shook her head no and Alison continued, "Well, the cousin went on a type early no tea murderous rampage and chopped Decca up with a spoon. And fed the tiny bits to the obliging Giant Squid that just happened to live in a near by lake."

There is a pregnant pause then, "I think squids are herbivores."

"Becca. Go, before I test your theory of it's truthfulness," Snaps the green-eyed teen, who is now shivering because the water was cold and her bed is right next to the window.

Becca goes and grumbling, Alison climbs out of bed at casts two drying spells. It is only when she begins to crawl back under her now toasty comforter, does Alison realize that Becca took_ Bacio_ with her. Silently fuming, she begins to get dressed for the day. It is the weekend and uniforms are awkward, jeans and a shirt advertising one of her favorite Wizarding bands, _Simple Arrogance_.

With a sigh, Alison puts some of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion is her hands and rubs it into her hair. As she styles the hair into a braid, Alison mournfully recalls how embarrassing it was to buy the potion, especially since she used to pride herself on the neat coppery mane that wasn't really hers. Alison likes her darker hair better though, it sets of her features better and is so different from anyone else she knows, but it is dreadfully messy and knots easily. How Muggles lived with hair like hers everyday and no Sleekeazy's, Alison isn't sure.

Two minutes and one application of trainers and Alison is out the door. She carefully walks down the staircase, holding all the grace and poise of a Pureblood belle, who know live as a faded memory of yesteryear. No one in the common room would have guessed a few moments ago she had been threatening to feed one of her close friends to a squid, but that may have had to do that with the fact that the common room was deserted, spare Connor, Becca, and a random first year.

"This place is a ghost town," Alison said loudly, trying to break the unnatural silence, "Did I miss lunch or something?"

Connor stood up and stretched, "No, it's not even eight yet. Everyone is waiting to go."

"I've missed something, where are we going?"

"You've got to be kidding," Connor groaned, "Honestly, the poster is right on the bulletin board and it's the size of a hippogriff."

Alison walked to the chair she would usually sit in it faced the board. There it was, this massive thing that announced in big letters that today was the first Hogsmeade visit, "I don't remember seeing that."

"How could you miss it? It's written in huge silver letters, on bright pink paper," The boy shook his head.

"Dunno, temporary blindness, I suppose," She peered at the poster, it _was_ a very bright pink, "Ugly color scheme though. Let me grab my cloak and I suppose we'll be off."

"Been there, done that," Becca sighed nonchalantly, and tossed the folded cloak at her friend.

"My book?" Alison asked, fastening the silver clasps around her neck.

"Vanished it back to the room," Becca said as she ran to the door, "Now hurry we need to get to Divine Hibiscus and find some dress robes!"

"And Cartwright's," Alison added enthusiastically, sprinting to catch up with her friend, "For more Veela Romance Novels!"

The two girls slipped through the door and Connor, bounded after them, pausing only a moment to cry, "And Honeydukes' for Jelly Slugs and Sugar Quills!"

There was a silence and then in a quiet voice, the first year, whose name was Georgia Fort, whimpered, "All sixth years are mad."

**A/N: Wait! I'm not dead yet! Come back:sighs: This is pitiful; nearly a month in between updates and this chapter is shorter than the last few. :shakes head in disgust: Not to mention I hate how this chapter turned out, but enough of my whining, onto the reviewers.**

**Megz2: Thanks; I'm glad to see some one worked out the names. And, yes, you could say stag. :gives Veela Romance Novel:**

**jimmy-loves-hermione: No, thank you for the review. And, one word, Erised. Hope it makes sense now. :gives Veela Romance Novel:**

**voice of the meadow: Thanks, if you don't mind sharing, what do you think will happen? I'm curious. :gives Veela Romance Novel:**

**simply infatuated: Poor boys:huggles them:gives out Veela Romance Novel:**

**lily9306: Thank you. :gives Veela Romance Novel:**

**Oh and some of you, read jimmy-loves-hermione, may recognize the _'Lovers' Oak'_ from chapter three in my other story, Random Acts of Stupidity, if you want more back story on the tree, read the fic. And yes, that was shameless advertising. Sue me. :ponders for a moment: On second thought, don't.**


	9. Letter From Home

**Disclaimer: You take the good; you take the bad and…wait, where was I going with this? Oh, well, onto the chapter then.**

No matter how many times anyone visits, students will always swear Hogsmeade is never the same twice. Whether this is because of magic surrounding the village, or the fact that people could never see everything in one day, nobody is sure. They just let their eyes widen in amazement and let the hardest decision of the day is whether or not they need that second box of Ice Mice or in Alison's case that eighth book.

"We are leaving, before you spend all your money on books," Becca said forcefully, pulling her friend away from the display case.

"But the books!" Alison cried as she clawed at the case, but only catching air, "They're on sale! Two Sickles for a pair!"

"No, if I leave here, you'll spend all your money and will have to go starkers to The Ball."

Connor could hear the capitalization in Becca's voice. Chewing thoughtfully on the head of a Jelly Slug, he said, "If she went starkers, she'd get loads of attention though. Probably a detention or expulsion to go with it."

"Not helping," Becca said through clenched teeth.

Connor looked amused, "I was supposed to be helping you? That changes everything," he picked up a book and swung it in front of Alison's face hypnotically, "Now, you listen to Becca and go look at clothes and shoes and all that rubbish, I'll not only buy you this book, but two more of your choosing."

Alison gave a little whimper, she only had enough money left to get one more book and it wasn't so bad of a deal. "I have one condition," She said placidly, "You have to join us in every shop."

The boy bit his lip in thought, and then replied, "Fine. Shake on it."

They shook.

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It was torture, watching as the shop girl brought out dresses of every style, color, and design, humbly offering them to Alison and Becca like an ancient Greek making a sacrifice to the gods, well, in this case goddesses. Connor watched as his friends looked over the outfits, dashing to the fitting room to try them on, and then demanding his opinion. After being asked whether he thought a bell sleeve was superior to a strapless, Connor played with the idea of making more of his close friends male.

"Connor!" Cried Becca, "You're not looking."

With a pained expression, the boy did so and immediately regretted it. "Sweet Mother of Merlin! Are you colorblind?"

Becca sniffled, "What's wrong with it?"

The question should have been what was _right _with it. It was a ghastly bright orange with green stripes that appeared to be radioactive. The sleeves were far to long, considering that the dress ended at Becca's knees. It was too loose around the waist and made the girl look a bit on the heavy side. Connor waved his hand in dismissal, "Becca, just say no."

Grumbling, Becca went to try on the next dress, a small air of defeat about her. She really thought that had been the one. "It's your turn to face the critic," She muttered to Alison as she went back into the changing room.

Alison grimaced and self-consciously walked out. "Erm, ready?" She asked, peering around the door to look at her friend.

"I ain't getting any younger out here."

"Ain't isn't a word," Alison replies peevishly as she stepped out.

"Nice," Connor said staring at her, "Color's wrong though."

Alison pursed her lips; she thought she was being clever, dressing in a soft red gown that had just a hint of gold at the hem. Loyalty to her house and all. She was about to tell Connor this when he added, "Try silver and green."

"Those are Slytherin colors!" Replied Alison, eyes wide.

"You're dad was a Slytherin."

Alison shot him a dirty look and turned away. Connor walked up to the shop girl and said, "Let me see all your dresses in silver and green."

The girl, who could've only been a few years older than him, giggled and replied, "I don't think we have anything in your size."

Connor smiled, "Then bring me the ones in her size."

"It's so good to see a boy getting something nice for his girlfriend," The shop girl said and pulled out her wand, "But I can't complain. Look what my David got me for my birthday."

She pulled a locket out from under her shirt. It was heart-shaped and read _David and Jo Forever_. The girl, Jo, stared at it lovingly. "It's lovely, but the dresses?" Conner asked.

Jo grinned sheepishly, "Sorry," She flicked her wand in a complicated manner and a rack of dresses zoomed in, "Here you go."

Connor nodded and began to flick through the dresses. Jo left him as Becca called for help. Alison was sitting in Connor's chair, sulking while staring at the floor. A few minutes later, Connor placed a dress in Alison's lap, "Try it on."

"Make me."

"If you try it on, I'll go to the Ball with you."

Alison inhaled sharply, but still teased her friend, "Threatening me now?"

Connor raised an eyebrow, "Is it working?"

"I'll try it on," Alison said, standing, "Because you asked."

Conner nodded as the entered the dressing room. Alison quickly locked the door and slipped into the dress Connor had picked. The top was dark green and like a corset, showing off pale shoulders and a small amount of cleavage. Alison smoothed the slivery fabric that made up the bottom part, noting how it clung snugly to hips and her stomach, made flat by rigorous Quidditch training. Alison couldn't reach far enough back to zip the dress and called for help, "Becca! I can't reach!"

"Coming," Replied her friend, "Open the door."

Alison did and Becca entered. She let out a low whistle, "Nice. Shows a bit, though. Will your mum and dad mind?"

The green-eyed girl shrugged, "Mum shouldn't. And if Draco does, that's his problem."

"Draco?"

"That's his name."

"Yeah, to everyone else, you call him 'Dad'."

Alison made an annoyed noise, "Are you nearly finished?"

Becca nodded, "Yeah, but may I ask, why the colors of the snake house?"

"Connor picked it," Alison said and went to show the boy her dress.

"I told you so," He said smugly as Alison spun around, to show him the back, "Green and silver work on you."

Alison knew he was right, but she would rather die than admit it. "You owe me a date."

Connor chuckled, "That I do."

"I except you to keep your word."

A pause, and then, "That I will."

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"You can't go with Connor!"

Becca shouted at Alison as they sat in the Three Broomsticks, butterbeers in hand. The green-eyed girl twisted the string on the parcel holding her dress, "Why not?"

"Well think about it. What if you started dating seriously-"

"It's only the Christmas Ball!"

"Yes, but it could turn into something big! And when you break up-"

"Who said we would break up!?" Alison snapped.

"Nobody!"

"You just did!"

Becca made an irritated sound, "That's not important! If, notice I said if, you broke up it would become all awkward and such-"

"Not everyone who breaks up automatically hates each other!"

"I didn't say you would hate each other! I said it would be awkward!"

"It's the same thing!" Alison cried.

"Is not!" Argued Becca.

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"I'm so glad my friends aren't childish twits."

The girls looked up, Connor was staring at them with an amused look. Alison studied him for a moment, he is smiling a type of crooked smile, like the whole situation amuses him, but he doesn't want to let it show. One of the dim lights is over his head, making a few stands of golden blonde shine through his brown hair. His eyes are very blue looking at the moment, bluer than blue. Alison realizes how illogical that sounds as Connor interrupts her train of thoughts.

"What were you fighting about?"

She blinks, "Oh! That! Nothing really, Becca was being stupid."

"Oh, in that case, shove over," Connor squeezes next to her.

Becca gives Alison a look and it is ignored, because Alison has returned to her own little world, in which blue eyes rest as the sun.

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_Dear Alison,_

_We've been waiting for you to write for a while, and were quite disappointed when you didn't. Your brother has sent nearly three times as many letters as you this year. If something is wrong, just tell us. We're here for you. Not much is new around here, but little Harry is getting a bit colicky, poor dear. Though, I feel worse for Ron and Hermione. Tell Connor and Becca we say hello._

_Love,_

_Mum and Dad_

_P.S. Have you looked at anything in the shoebox yet? _

"Haven't you've been writing?" Becca asked, reading over Alison's shoulder.

"Of course, but I've been busy. The ball and all," Alison replied, folding the letter, "I'll send out a response later tonight."

"Can I ask you something?" Becca said a bit tentatively.

"You already have," Alison replied with a small smile.

Becca rolled her eyes, "What's this shoebox thing?"

"It's a box."

"Figured that much, what's in it?"

"Not shoes."

"What then?"

Alison didn't respond, but instead chose to go help Connor with his Potions essay.

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"How do you tell if a boy likes you?"

Harceler looked at Alison, "Seeing as I never played on that side of the Quidditch Pitch, I wouldn't know."

"But you're a boy," Alison persisted.

"That I am," Harceler nodded, "Last time I checked anyway."

Alison laughed, "I got a date for the ball."

"Did you now?" Harceler asked.

"Yeah, Connor-what are you doing?"

"Me?"

"No, the other boy in my dreams."

The brunette clucked, "Sarcasm is not appropriate for a young lady, but if you must know I was trying to stand on my head."

"You sound like Grandma Molly," Alison stared at him, "Why stand on you head?"

"I'd shrug, but that would make me fall over."

"Indeed, so would this," The girl tapped his elbow making him collapse.

"Very funny," Harceler said as he righted himself.

"It wasn't me. Gravity attacked you," The girl laughed softly.

Harceler closed his eyes for a moment and all was quiet. When he opened them he turned to Alison, "You haven't been writing home."

"That doesn't sound like a question."

"That's because it isn't one. Why haven't you been writing?"

Alison sighed and fell back onto a pile of cushions, "I've had a lot of thing going on."

"You told Becca the same thing," Harceler sounded annoyed, "Why won't you talk to anyone?"

"I talk. I talk to Connor and Becca. I'm talking to you right now."

"This is small talk, I mean real talking. Emotions and stuff like that."

"Most guys don't like talking about that stuff," Alison replied.

"I'm not most guys," Harceler quickly added, "You're trying to change the subject."

"That I am," The girl gave him a sad look, "And if you were a nice guardian thingy you'd go along with it."

Harceler pursed his lips, "If a turtle doesn't have a shell is he naked or homeless?"

Alison blinked, "The turtle is dead. Their spines are attached to the shell."

Sticking out his tongue the young man said, "Thanks for that little tidbit of information."

"You asked."

"So, what were you saying about the dance?"

Alison grinned, "Well, you see, Connor kinda bribed me into buying this dress…"

**A/N:sigh: Some two months and four days ago I started this fic. It's been coming along at a snail's pace. Please, don't hate me for not updating quickly. I take guitar lessons, go to play practice, test time is coming up and I'm currently in the middle of transferring into a new computer. Sorry for the excuses as well.**

**Nymphadora: Glad I could brighten your day. :gives out sugar cookie:**

**jimmy-loves-hermione: Veela Romance Novels are more addicting than crack. :gives out sugar cookie:**

**Luna13: My French is terrible isn't it? Thanks for the ideas. :gives out sugar cookie:**


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